


Crusade

by st_jimmy_987



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abduction, Blood, Creature Fic, Dragon!Cas, Dragons, Fighting, Knights - Freeform, M/M, creature!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 06:00:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9308516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_jimmy_987/pseuds/st_jimmy_987





	

“Papa, tell me a story!” The little girl sat nestled in her bed, surrounded by the giant fluffy pillows at either side of her and a warm blanket pulled firmly around her legs. Her bedtime had long since passed, but she'd managed to keep herself in the bed in order for her papa to come to her and soothe her to sleep with a story. It was the best compromise she could get, and she used it to her advantage as her father came to snuggle beside her.  


“What kind of story?” The man asked, gazing down fondly at his child. Electric blue and emerald green heterochromatic eyes looked back up, shining even in the dim light of the room as she pretended to think.  


“Tell me about you and Father again.” The child said, her tone longing and far away.  
“That old story again?” The man chuckled, flattening down wayward and wild hair. “You've heard it about a thousand times.”  


“But Papa, please!” The girl begged, grasping her father’s hand with both of her own. Her eyes were wide and hopeful, her love for the old story clearly showing on her face. “Please, Papa, it's my favorite!”  


“I know, I know.” The man sighed, wrapping his arms around his daughter and bringing her close to his chest. Pressing his lips against the warm forehead, the man looked over his girl’s head to the window; another hard won compromise.  


His silence was not wondering where to start, and his child respected that silence. They sat quietly together before the man cleared his throat and sat back.  


“Long ago,” the man began, “we had been at war for twenty years, against dragons that were fierce and dangerous, against humans who were vicious and cunning. It was a long and brutal war, with dragons razing entire villages and humans slaughtering broods of dragons. One day, a group of young Knights were sitting at the bar, talking about the faces their enemies wore…”  


XxX  


“They said their eyes are red as flame.” Andy made his eyes as wide as they could go, leaning forward and drawing the rest of them to do the same. His voice lowered, not in fear, but in disgust for the beasts they were at war with. They were newly knighted and young, the group seated together, and drunk off the happiness that came from their new power. “I heard it told, from Hell they came. Their breath is fire, their tongues are forked- - -thus are the beasts of Dragon’s Gait.”  


“They don't sound that terrifying.” Dean snorted from across the table. He'd been knighted first, the leader of his group. He was headstrong and sure, the quickest with a shield and the swiftest with a sword. He was just eighteen, more than willing and ready to kill what was placed in front of him. The others turned to him in surprise, and he knocked back his drink. Slamming the cup down on the table, Dean allowed himself to smirk at the awestruck looks on his fellow’s faces; he'd always had that effect on them, from the beginning of training to now. “Let them come.”  


“Dean!” One of the men’s voices came from across the room; Robert, his name was, though the younger knights called him Bobby and he took the familiar name in stride. He was an older knight, heavy and retired already from the brunt of the war. His voice was warning and low, though the younger men didn't know what he was warning them against. Dean sent him his smuggest grin, gripping his sword hilt tight and drawing it in the room, aiming it skyward amidst gasps and murmurs.  


“By God, let them come.” He thundered loudly, overpowering their noise with his voice. Dean attracted the attention of everyone in the bar, his tone full of overconfidence “I’ll kill them all, by the hundreds- - -by the thousands- - -until our land is rid of these horrid dragons that insist on our demise. Let them come.”  


“Know your enemy.” The older knight cut across the cheers Dean’s comment brought forth; he had managed to move across the room quickly, standing by the younger boy so suddenly that Dean jumped. He whirled around to face Bobby just as his shoulder was gripped tightly and he was yanked down from his spot.  


He was suddenly reminded why Bobby had been the second best warrior in their kingdom before he decided to stop fighting.  


“Know your enemy,” Bobby warned him darkly. He had a haunted sort of look in his eyes, and his voice was full of a warning; it wasn't against fighting, but Dean had a hard time placing what it was for. “Know them as well as you knew your father, as well as you know Sam. Know your enemy as I would have them know you.”  


The words struck a chord in Dean’s memory; they sounded familiar, and as he sat down he mulled them over. The chattering of the bar resumed, and though Bobby left him for the night and went home, Dean found himself thinking of the knight’s words for quite some time.  


Why should he have to know the dragons? Dean thought stubbornly. There wasn't much to know. They were violent, and had the power to burn villages to a crisp with their fire. They were dangerous, having the power to turn human and mix with the actual humans. The older a dragon was, the easier to was to hide the signs of a monster in a human skin.  


After all, that was how one got close enough to kill his mother. An old dragon had taken up residency in their household, under the pretense of a nanny to keep an eye on the children of the house. Then, one day, she slaughtered Mary and was going after Sam when John had come in with Dean. Afterwards, the man had become obsessed with the idea of killing dragons. Though Sam didn't carry that particular obsession, Dean was more than willing to keep to fighting.  


After all, he would do anything to ensure that his little brother was kept safely out of harm’s way.  


XxX  


They had patrols as Knights. The task was familiar, but the land they were patrolling was not. As knights in training, they couldn't leave the walls of their village. As official Knights, now, they had to watch the land outside. They were separated into groups, and given an area to patrol; they were in search of dragons, or any dragon hideouts that could be used to attack their village. Though it was unlikely, given the territory they were patrolling, they were to also search for the dragon that attacked their village the night before.  


Dean was paired with Andy and Ash, and as they walked through the hills they were given, the boys talked about what they would do if they found the dragon that had stolen the sheep from the village.  


“We’d have to take it all at once.” Ash was saying. His voice was slow and thoughtful, reflecting the state of his mind. Though he had the strength and intelligence for a knight, he quite often have into drinking. “We need a strategy. This is not something we should come up with as it’s happening.”  


“I hear that.” Dean shoved at Ash. “But, my friend, consider: the best told stories do not necessarily have laid plans.”  


“True,” Andy said, laughing as the smaller knight stumbled but caught his footing. “But, Dean, a rebuttal: stories are more often told by survivors rather than the heroes themselves.”  


“Wait.” Dean stopped, holding his arms out so that Ash and Andy didn't walk past him. They looked to him in confusion, but Dean pointed towards a rocky outcrop of the land. “What is that?”  


“It's rocks, Dean.” Ash said. Dean shot him a dark look, but headed towards it quietly. Andy and Ash shared a look behind his back, but followed after him. There wasn't anything there but rocks of course, but Dean didn't seem to be deterred by that. His heart racing, he directed Andy to go one way and Ash to go the other.  


“What are we doing, Dean?” Ash hissed. His eyes were wide and frightened, holding onto the sword at his side in a tight grip.  


“We’re on patrol aren't we?” Dean snapped back quietly. “Go left. I'll climb up the rocks. Let's see what we can find.”  


“Dean, we should call for backup.” Andy whispered.  


“It's probably nothing.” Dean told them. “Let's just do this ourselves. Come on, guys, don't be wimps.” Andy and Ash pursed their lips but obeyed, circling the outcropping in different directions. Satisfied, Dean began climbing up the rocks.  


It was a lot easier than he initially thought. Even with his armor on, Dean didn't have any issues scaling the outcropping. It took him about an hour, he figured, before he managed to get high enough to find what he'd almost expected; a small flat surface, with an opening wide enough for him to slip into. Dean’s breath caught in his throat, and r didn't dare move in case there was something close by. For a long moment, nothing happened. Dean almost expected to have to start climbing again, to find another entrance, when there was a low grumbling that echoed from the darkness.  


“Andy.” He hissed, almost unwilling to leave his spot by the cave mouth. His mind raced, wondering if he had enough time to climb back down and find Andy and Ash; if there was a way he could convince them to come up the outcropping with him so that they could see what he'd found.  


There was a dragon in there, a living breathing dragon. It was almost too much for him, but it wasn't fear he was trembling with, even with the thought of facing the great beast by himself. Adrenaline rushed through him, and Dean decided against trying to find his friends once more. Task in mind, he drew his sword and took a steadying breath.  


He crept into the cave mouth eagerly, stepping as quietly as he could to avoid tipping off the dragon that lived in the cavern. The entryway was large, big enough to accommodate an untransformed dragon. He walked forward just a bit, then came to a fork in the road. A walkway branched off to his left, while the other headed diagonally to his right. Dean held his breath, eyes darting between the two before making an executive decision to go right. Heart pounding in his ears, Dean barely felt the chill of the air as he searched for the dragon. The cave was getting darker and darker the further he got from the entrance, and he almost missed the dragon: it was curled up in a high-tipped room, bursts of heat warming the cave as they left the dragon’s nose.  


His breath caught as the dragon unwound itself from the cavern floor; it was huge, much bigger than he thought it would be. Its body was long and thin, the tip of the tail wrapping around most of the stone ground while it brought itself up on its front legs. The neck was long and elegant, bringing its head to the very top of the cave. It towered over Dean, who barely stood up to its elbow in comparison. Spikes decorated the neck and the top of its head, sharp and deadly as the teeth it was currently baring at him in warning.  


Dean’s heart stopped as the dragon’s head suddenly shot down, twisting as it did so until a great crimson eye could stare him down in the face. It searched him critically, almost wonderingly, for a long moment; the smoke that had been slowly dripping from its mouth ceased for a few precious seconds. Dean stared back in awe, taking in the dragon with wide eyes.  


Crimson was the only color he could see; it seemed to glow like a dying ember. The cavern was dark, much darker than he anticipated even though he knew all sunlight had been left behind at the entrance. Dean could make out the dragon’s movements, just barely, and all he could see was the giant eye. The size and shape of it was just as visible, though Dean imagined that there was some spark of color he could make out in the corner of his eye; he was too terrified to glance away to confirm it.  


A sudden noise came from behind them. It broke the weird spell they were caught in instantly, though Dean found he still couldn’t move; the great dragon raised its head again, drawing back and unfolding enormous wings from behind him. What Dean could see of them- - -giant, shimmering, flashes of color even in the dark- - -made his mouth go dry.  


The wings beat once, twice…the gust from the movement knocked Dean off his feet and into the stone wall. The sudden deafening sound of howling wind beat against his ears, and he automatically rolled to his side, covering his ears from the noise. Heat blew over him, the dragon’s fire lighting up the cave momentarily. There was a strange sort of noise, a series of clicks and growls, that came from the dragon. Responding noises came from further away, and Dean’s heart sank just a bit.  


There was another dragon.  


In the silence came another, newer, noise; a scuffling, nails scraping against the stone as the other dragon approached. The noise made Dean divide his attention between the great dragon and the new threat, but the dragon turned completely towards the noise. His gaping jaw opened wide, and he roared loud enough to echo in the cave tunnels. An answering roar echoed back from further down, but still the scraping continued. It was barely audible over the answer, and the dragon turned completely away from Dean.  


Seeing his opportunity as the dragon’s wings flared again, Dean took a running start and leaped as high as he could. A prayer on his lips, the knight used his weight to his advantage as he landed; the blade sunk quickly and easily into the soft, vulnerable spot between the dragon’s wings. His next roar was one of agony, his wings beating in order to push Dean off. He held firm, pressing down until the hilt reached the leathery back, and then held on. The dragon let loose another roar and twisted around to try and pry him off, but Dean twisted the sword in place and pushed at an angle. Blood spurted in his face, and the dragon trashed around in pain.  


Dean felt himself slipping, because the sword wasn’t as sturdy as it had been a moment prior, and he grabbed the base of one of the wings to keep himself from falling. The base was brittle and more fragile than he thought it would be, considering the size of the wing and a dragon’s ability to use their wings for flight; Dean heard a faint crack from the bone, and though it didn’t break, he knew he at least fractured it.  


The sound of nails came again, closer this time, and the dragon was torn between fighting and tending to the noise. He let out another roar, flames following, one that sounded frustrated and agonized. Since he was distracted, Dean took the opportunity to yank the sword from the dragon’s back; blood coated the length of the sword, flowing steadily from the wound. With a deep breath, Dean stabbed the great dragon just under the wing. As he roared again, the knight released the wing in his hand and used his weight to bring the sword down. The shining sword easily tore through the dragon’s flesh, drawing a jagged line down the side of the great dragon as he roared and thrashed in agony.  


Dean got as close to the ground as he could, then used his feet to push himself off the side of the dragon and take his sword with him. A clawed hand caught him around his waist as he did so, though the dragon wobbled on his feet.  


He threw Dean across the cave; Dean hit the wall hard, knocking his breath from his chest and slamming the back of his head against the stone wall. He slid down and landed harshly on his knees, trying to catch his breath again before facing the dragon again.  


The dragon continued to fight despite the pain, tail whipping around wildly and fire bursting from its mouth in spurts of heat. His crimson eyes focused only on the warrior fighting him, teeth sharp and jaws snapping whenever he got too close for comfort. Still, he was injured and losing his blood quickly, making him disoriented and weak. His eyes tracked the movements of the human, keeping up with whatever movement Dean made, but the great dragon didn't attack. It kept its wings drawn, favoring his torn side by angling it away from the knight.  


Dean rolled under a small burst of flame and finally managed to get where he wanted to be; right underneath the dragon. Sending up a quick prayer, he aimed his sword upwards- - -where the dragon’s heart was, just above his head- - -and jumped, putting all his force behind the sword. It pierced the soft underbelly of the dragon easily, and for a moment that stretched into an eternity nothing happened.  


In the same second though, the great dragon fell to the floor of the cave with a loud roar, fierce and deafening. He watched as the great beast collapsed in a heap on the floor, the light fading slowly from the heated eyes. Panting, the warrior wiped at his brow, trying vainly to wipe the sweat that had gathered on him from the heat and his movement. Sighing heavily, he fell back with a loud jangling of his armor, wincing when the sound echoed in the cave; the dragon was the only known beast that lived there, according to reports, but that didn’t mean anything when he clearly heard at least one other dragon further down.  


There was a slight noise, quiet and unassuming, that immediately had him on the defensive; gripping his sword tightly in one hand and pulling it from the dragon’s chest as quietly as he could, he waited for a long moment until the sound repeated itself.  


It didn’t take as long as he hoped; whatever was making the noise seemed to think it was in the clear, because there was the echoing sound of claws on the stone floor- - -another dragon- - -until they skid to a stop by the fallen dragon. The giant’s head moved briefly, just barely; a small tilt and back, and the sound came back, much more pitiful than before. Unwilling to be caught off-guard by another, unknown dragon, he jumped up and aimed the blade of his own sword at the new threat.  


Immediately the other dragon went on the defensive; his lips pulled back, showing off his sharp teeth and his neck flared, trying to appear bigger than he actually was. He was barely up to Dean’s elbow, his wings flapping behind him wildly. His crimson eyes, so similar to the ones the great dragon owned just before he closed them permanently, were narrowed in hate and half-colored with stunning crystal blue.  


A baby.  


He staggered back, shock clouding his thoughts and face. The dragon-child stepped over the bigger dragon’s neck, snarling and letting loose puffs of black smoke; he was too young to breathe any more than that, not yet able to reach down and pull fire from the depths of his chest. His whole body was trembling from the mixture of fear and anger that was evident in his eyes, though he continued to advance slowly on the warrior that had defeated his father.  


Without hesitating, Dean turned tail and fled from the baby dragon; there was a snarl from behind him and the sound of nails scarping on the floor. Guilt and fear filled his chest and weighed him down as he scrambled to the mouth of the cave, uncaring as to whether or not the dragon heard him as he attempted to make his getaway.  


The sounds of a transformation echoed in the cave, and suddenly the sound of scraping nails was just gone. There was no sound behind him, which meant that the dragon had assumed another form that kept him from making noise as he chased after him. Terrified of what that meant- - -not an infant baby, then, just one young enough to create guilt if killed and old enough to tap into some of his powers- - -Dean threw himself forward, hating the amount of armor he wore for the very first time in his life; he rounded a corner in the maze cave and saw the entrance to the tunnel just ahead. Feeling a burst of strangled relief and hope, the warrior tried to add speed to his feet- - -  


And was suddenly tackled from the side.  


Letting out a pained cry as his head collided with the stone cave floor, Dean scrambled to get his bearings as he slid along the floor. His armor was screeching against the cold stone, loud and echoing, and the edges of it catching on the rocks and groves of the floor were enough to slow them down marginally.  


Unfortunately, marginally wasn’t enough when his head slammed into the stone yet again; his teeth clattered together, just barely missing the tip of his tongue but sinking into his bottom lip, and the extra weight on him added to the force that slammed the top of his head to the cave wall. Dazed, Dean was barely able to make out crimson lined blue eyes before he gave into the darkness.  


XxX  


“What on earth were you thinking?”  


“I- - -I do not know.”  


“Do you understand that this has the potential to get us all killed?”  


“I just- - -”  


“Not to mention the others who will come in search of him!”  


“I know, but- - -“  


“If anything, why bring him here? Why not one of the other places?”  


“Guys, it’s done. There’s nothing we can do about it now, eh? And besides- - -he’s waking.”  


Dean opened his eyes to the sight of five curiously blank faces, all unfamiliar and human-looking and slightly shadowed by the small fire burning behind them. One was a young girl, looking no older than twenty-one, with fiery crimson hair and matching mostly-red eyes. Her lips were pursed and her stare was unwavering, even with the charming grin he sent her way. A muscle twitched in her face at the sight, and she spit at him before turning sharply on her heel.  


“Human filth.” She hissed, stepping away gracefully.  


“Who are you?” Dean’s attention was drawn to the man who had to be the eldest of the group; he stood tall and proud, with matching crimson eyes and a set of elegant leathery wings pressed to his back. The dragon’s eldest son- - -for there was no questioning that the male before him was a dragon, even without the fiery eyes and the folded wings- - -was unearthly handsome and stern, demanding obedience and information even half-naked and covered in mud.  


“Who wants to know?” He asked cheerfully. The eldest said nothing, but one of the other dragons scowled, while another let loose a laugh that sounded more amused than anything else.  


Still, one dragon remained silent, staring at him with a curious tilt to his head even as the warrior dragon closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.  


“We are wasting time, brother.” What must have been the second in command hissed furiously, shooting a deadly glare at Dean; the sole human shot him a wink, which made his lip curl in the same disgust as the girl’s. His voice was the one worried about his group finding him. “We would do well to hurry this along. Find out if there are any more headed our way, and kill him while we have the chance.”  


“He is captured, and we are deep below the ground.” The oldest shot back, though he sounded slightly wary. “He poses no danger to us as of now.” The other dragon hissed through his teeth, prompting the warrior dragon to look at him sternly. “Go with Anael. Find out if there was anyone following him, but do not injure or kill them. Do not engage them. And then see if she needs help.”  


“You would reduce me to the level of our sister?” He hissed darkly. The eldest turned only his head, leaning down to bring his face closer to his brother’s.  


“I would make it worse if you complain. Go now.” Dean tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement when the dragon turned cold eyes on him, baring his teeth when Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively. The dragon who laughed before and pointed out his alertness snorted in humor. He was the shortest of them all, with wavy blonde hair pushed back from his face. His eyes were strange, Dean noted, one honey-glazed and golden while the other was a dragon’s crimson. He pulled something from some hidden pocket, sticking it in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.  


“I like this human.” He announced, reaching out and ruffling Dean’s hair as if he were a child. Pulling away brought Dean closer to the dragon who hadn’t said a word since Dean awoke, and it was with curious caution that Dean finally regarded him. He had wind-ruffled hair, with crystal-clear eyes that regarded him blankly.  


“Castiel and I can handle this human.” The warrior dragon rumbled as he studied the last dragon. “Go, keep a wary eye on our brother and ensure that he doesn’t kill anyone he doesn’t need to.”  


“As you instruct, Michael.” He ruffled Dean’s hair again, clawed fingers scraping almost warningly against the back of his neck, before doing the same to the other dragon. He didn’t acknowledge the motion, and though he tilted his head to the side curiously, he made no move to stop staring at Dean.  


It was starting to weird him out.  


“Can I help you with something?” Dean asked him pointedly. His question made the dragon narrow his eyes a bit, but he didn’t move to answer at all.  


“Who are you?” The warrior dragon- - -Michael, Dean thought- - -asked again, kneeling beside his brother. His movements were far more graceful than Dean’s could ever hope to be, and he settled on the haunches of his feet. His eyes were fully crimson, his face thin and narrow. Despite his age- - -and since he had fully crimson eyes, Dean knew that the dragon before him was a full-grown adult, even if just barely- - -his human body looked no older than twenty-four, twenty-five. He had cropped brown hair and he stared just as much as the unnamed dragon, though his gaze held a hardness the other didn’t have. “Why have you entered our nest?”  


“Well, it sure wasn’t for the scenery.” He joked. “You guys have any setting other than ‘grey’, ‘stone’, or ‘wall’?” The oldest dragon tilted his head curiously, mimicking his younger brother as he did so. Dean’s smirk slipped slightly at the narrowed eyes, realizing belatedly that perhaps making jokes where he could potentially be roasted alive was not the best idea.  


“I believe what Michael means to say,” Dean jumped about five feet; the voice that spoke was deep and gravelly and so completely out of place coming from such a young dragon. His eyes flew to the younger dragon in shock that went unnoticed as he kept talking. “Is that we know you killed our father. We would like to know why you did.”  


“We’re at war, aren’t we?” Dean asked breathlessly. The younger dragon tilted his head further to the side; Jesus in heaven, but how old was this dragon? There was something off about him; it wasn't just his age, though that was almost certainly a factor. “Isn’t that reason enough?”  


“Perhaps, but we have no war with the humans.” Michael shifted a bit, drawing Dean’s attention back to him. “Not once have we raided, or attacked, or even stepped foot outside this cavern with the intent to harm. Why base an attack on a brood of innocent dragons?”  


“There’s no such thing,” Dean snorted, his heart thumping in his chest. His mind was racing, trying to remember what he could about dragons. He’d been so focused on killing them, but Dean knew that Sam had at least given him enough information to keep himself alive. Long enough, at least, to find Andy and Ash or get back up. “Saying there are innocent dragons is like saying that there are innocent people in prison.”  


“Ah, but couldn’t there be innocents in prison?” Michael countered instantly, while the younger dragon’s eyes furrowed. It was Dean’s turn to shift uncomfortably, feeling the stone pressing into his back as he did so. After a pointed silence, Michael snorted, a small amount of smoke twisting delicately under his nose as he repeated, “Who are you?”  


“Guess.” Dean bared his teeth in challenge at Michael, who looked taken aback at the sight. Feeling vaguely triumphant, though also as though he'd sealed his fate, Dean turned his glare onto the other dragon as well; he did not react, other than a quirk of his eyebrow.  


“You are stubborn” He said instead; to Dean’s surprise, the dragon knelt down and pinned him with red-lined, too-blue eyes. Unwittingly, Dean’s breath caught at the familiar shade of blue, the only other color he'd seen in the darkness of the cave. The thought paralyzed him, causing fear to spike in his chest and pain to lace his heart.  


This was the dragon-child who had watched him kill his father.  


“My name is Castiel.” The dragon introduced himself with little fanfare and no hint of recognition. He kept his hands to himself, not that Dean would be able to take his hand even if he wanted to, but he moved closer so that Dean could see him better. His face was drawn and serious, his curiosity only seen through the tilt of his head. He was studiously ignoring his brother’s hissed warnings, staying as close to Dean as he dared. “Who are you?”  


“Dean.” He bit out through clenched teeth. The child was much older in human form than he’d realized; he looked maybe around Dean’s age, maybe a bit younger. That's why his age had felt off earlier; he was a hatchling in dragons terms, only barely an adult in human. Too young to be in any war, but not young enough to be shielded from pain.  


God, there was the guilt choking him.  


"Hello, Dean." Castiel rumbled. Michael growled at the words, but held back easily when his younger brother continued. "Why have you come into our nest and slain our father?"  


"I..." Dean found himself lost for words and suddenly, his great idea for glory sounded stupid in his own head. Flushing darkly, he looked away from Castiel's piercing red-blue eyes. They bore into him, even though Dean was no longer meeting their gaze, and the knight could almost feel the dragon peering into his soul.  


"I see.” He was silent for a moment. Dean debated looking up, but decided against it when he heard the rumble of Michael’s roar catching in the dragon’s throat. “Are there others with you?"  


“No.” Dean looked up at that, meeting Castiel’s gaze head on. His breath caught, his heart racing in his chest. He hoped Andy and Ash were smart enough to stay away from the entrance of the lair; that they'd waited for him and then decided on finding back up when he didn't return from their exploration. They were knights, yes, but this had been Dean’s stupid idea. They didn't deserve to be punished because of him.  


“Lucifer will tell us if that's true or not.” Michael snorted and tossed his head. He turned away, clearly bored of having to deal with Dean. “I'll leave the human to you, Castiel.”  


“Me?” Castiel turned slightly, looking up at his brother with a furrow between his eyes. “Why me?”  


“None of us have the patience to handle this little one.” Dean protested at being called ‘little’, but he was ignored by both dragons as Michael retreated the direction Anael and his brothers had gone. “And seeing as you were the one who brought him to us, he becomes your responsibility.”  


“Understood.” Castiel stood, watching his brother leave quietly before turning his gaze to Dean. Dean stared back defiantly, even lifting his chin up just the slightest bit in challenge. Castiel tilted his head to the side and, without a word, walked away as well.  


XxX  


Over the next couple of what Dean assumed were days, he learned the hierarchy of the dragons he was stuck with; he also got to learn about the types of personalities they had, and he was struck by how similar they were to the people in his own village.  


Castiel was actually the youngest of the brood, the “baby” in the family of dragons; while his human form was no older than twenty, just a year younger than his sister’s, his actual age was closer to ten or eleven. He was somber and serious, with a sarcastic streak a mile wide. His sister was the fiery red-head who had spit on Dean when he smirked at her; Anael was thirteen, and the only female dragon in the whole brood. It fell on her to keep her brothers well-fed, cleaned, and happy. It was something she took pride in, and though she never asked for anything in return, all the brothers endeavored to keep her happy, protected, and healthy.  


Before them was Gabriel, the only dragon who seemed to gain amusement from Dean’s presence and the only dragon to act like a child even at seventeen. He liked to pop around him and strike up conversations that often led to Dean’s frustration, playing games that left him confused and his head spinning. Just before him was Lucifer, who just turned twenty and had an opposite stance of his brother; he loathed Dean completely, shooting him evil glares and just barely missing injuring the human more with his claws or his teeth. The only thing keeping him from killing Dean was Michael, who was in fact the eldest dragon and the leader of the brood now that Dean had killed his father.  


They’d had a ceremony for it. Dean watched, highly uncomfortable and wishing he weren't witnessing such an event, as Michael knelt before his siblings. They’d foregone clothes to be more comfortable, though they'd cleaned up well for the occasion. Dean watched as Michael bowed momentarily before his siblings before transforming into his dragon form. He was smaller than his father, Dean noticed, but not by much. He hadn't moved either; his head rested on the floor, his neck bent and shoulders haunched inwards. The dragon looked relatively peaceful, and Dean realized suddenly, with a stab of guilt, that it was a similar position the giant dragon had been in when he'd come in.  


Lucifer approached; he was in human form, and he looked small walking up to the giant dragon. Dean wondered, in the back of his mind, if that's what he looked like approaching their father.  


Biting into the wrist of his right hand, Lucifer reached out with his left and smeared his blood across Michael’s face, from the bottom of his left eye down to his jaw. As he retreated, head lowered respectfully, Gabriel came forward. He looked unusually serious, his eyes somber and mouth drawn as he bit into his left wrist. His blood decorated the right side of Michael’s face, mimicking Lucifer’s. Anael stepped forward, sinking her teeth into the palm of her right hand and connecting her brothers’ lines over the bridge of his nose. Before she let Castiel have his turn, she pressed a kiss to her eldest brother’s nose. Michael let out a huff, smoke drifting harmlessly from his nostrils.  


Castiel was last; as he bit into his left palm and coated his fingers in his own blood, he looked almost lost. His hand was trembling as he reached out, and the lines he drew across Michael’s mouth was shaky. Still, he held his brother’s gaze as he retreated as respectfully as Lucifer.  


When he joined the line his siblings had created around Michael, he stopped. Dean watched, feeling like the worst kind of intruder, as Michael curled into himself to turn human again. Their blood shimmered in the firelight they'd lit for the occasion, golden and valuable. It pooled around the four siblings, it glinted off of Michael’s face, and Dean felt his heart stop when the dragon turned his Crimson eyes to him. The golden blood made his eyes stand out in the firelight, and in that one moment, Michael looked more regal than any human Dean had ever seen in his life.  


“My first order.” He said, loud and in a tone that booked no argument, “Dean Winchester is to be our honored guest for as long as he lives.” Lucifer’s face twisted, but he said nothing as Michael came to a stop in front of the human. Dean stared at him with wide eyes, his heart sinking. Michael looked down at him impassively. “You shall live the rest of your human lifespan amongst the rest of us, and you will come to understand that we mean no harm. That is my command.”  


“As you command.” The rest of the dragons murmured. Only Castiel was looking curiously at his oldest brother, and for some reason it filled Dean with a type of rage.  


He didn't dare say anything yet though; instead, Dean held his anger in check for the first time in his life. He held it in as Gabriel led him back to through the twisted caverns back to what was apparently going to be his own room now. Dean didn't rise to Gabriel’s bait, his lips curling in the long moments before the middle dragon left and the youngest took his place.  


“Why do you deal with all of this?” Dean snapped the second he was in view, determinedly ignoring the plates the dragon was holding. Castiel stopped where he was, his shoulders twitching just a bit. He tilted his head to the side, and Dean wanted to throttle him. Instead, he clenched his hands into fists and watched Castiel’s face morph into confusion.  


“Deal with what, Dean?” He asked in his gravelly voice.  


“Them!” Dean threw his hand out in the direction Gabriel had just vanished down. “Michael’s holier-than-thou attitude, Lucifer’s antagonism, fucking Gabriel- - -”  


“They are my brothers, Dean.” Castiel replied. Dean threw his hands into the air and plopped down on the ground. Burying his face in his hands, he screamed in frustration. He was going stir-crazy stuck in the cave; Dean wanted fresh air and sunshine and human contact, and instead he was stuck dealing with dragons. He was going to be stuck with dragons for the rest of his life; until he died. He distantly heard Castiel approach, and looked up to find the youngest dragon kneeling right in front of him. His red-ringed, too blue eyes seemed to glow in the light of the fire they'd lit to keep him warm. “I do not understand what you're trying to ask me, Dean.”  


“Why do you stay with them?” Dean asked. “Why stay here? I know they're your brothers, but they're irritating as fuck. Why don't you survive on your own?”  


“Oh.” Castiel sat back, putting a few more inches of space between them. Serving the food he brought with him, Castiel told him, “it's much safer to stay together than it would be to go out on our own.” Dean’s confusion must have shown on his face, because Castiel’s movements stopped so that his attention was solely on Dean. “Humans,” he said, “are much less likely to attack a cave knowing that a brood of dragons live there. If it's a single dragon, there's a safety in attacking in numbers. But more than one dragon could be death to all, even if your numbers outweigh our own. And though there are five of us now, it still is too much for your human army to take on their own.”  


Shame filled Dean again at the gentle reminder. Castiel continued without looking at him.  


“Michael’s attitude has changed since he knew he would have to accept leadership of us all.” The dragon admitted. “And Lucifer has never felt kindly towards humans before this anyway. Gabriel’s personality is irritating, yes, but he is the only one to accept your presence among us with little hostility. Even Anael can't bear to be around you now.”  


“And you?” Dean asked. His heart was pounding; he could hear it in his ears and feel it racing against his throat. Castiel stopped, his lips pursing just a bit. His answer was important, Dean could feel it in the moment before his mouth parted. The air was charged around them, tense and uncomfortable.  


“I admit,” Castiel said slowly, “I'm particularly impartial to you. I alone witnessed our father’s death, and I was the one who ran you down.” Dean could still feel the lump on his head. “Yet I couldn't bring myself to kill you, and nor could I set you free.” Castiel gave Dean his food and began eating, not checking to make sure Dean did the same. There was a weird silence for a moment before he spoke again. “My father loved humans.”  


“Loved to eat them.” Castiel shot him a dark glower.  


“He loved them.” He repeated. “He would often travel to different villages. He lived amongst them for several days, as a traveler.” His lips quirked upwards. “He brought us presents back. Little things he thought were particularly interesting or beautiful. An amulet for Michael once, a dress for Anael. Vegetables and meat, for us to create food with. He traded stories and songs of our heritage for the ability to feed us properly.” As Castiel spoke of his father, Dean felt a sinking feeling in his gut. The dragon’s voice was laced with sadness and longing and fondness, the way anyone would talking about someone that was missed.  


“My brother,” he said, his voice thick. Castiel turned his head, looking at Dean with eyes that held a wisdom they shouldn't. Dean continued, playing with the meat in his hands. “His name is Sam. He's younger than me, by about four years or so.”  


“Is he a knight as well?”  


“No.” Dean laughed shortly. “He can fight, but he doesn't want to. He loves his books and his writings, Sam. He would love to be here. Dragons are what he's most interested in.” Dean stared at his food. “He thinks we can live in peace with you guys.”  


“And you?” Castiel questioned.  


“I don't know.” Dean replied. He looked at Castiel with wide eyes, feeling his breath catch in his chest. Too-blue eyes stared back. “Maybe he's right, Cas.”  


XxX  


The next several days after Dean’s conversation with the younger dragon followed such a similar pattern that he began growing bored. His interactions were limited to the same three dragons: Michael, Gabriel, and Castiel. Michael was constantly asking about Dean’s village, the men that were patrolling the area, about why Dean had decided to kill their father. Dean’s answers, while slowly becoming more civil the more he understood the eldest, gave away nothing and he would leave in frustration. He only saw Michael once a day.  


Gabriel would pick him up in the morning and the evening; blindfolding Dean so that he couldn’t see, the middle dragon would untie him from the wall and lead him around the corridors to keep him as healthy as they could underground. It was always a different route, throwing Dean off whenever he was lead somewhere. He didn't seem to care about answers. What he did care about, though, was telling tall tales and jokes. Gabriel talked about the ways he joked with Michael, the shenanigans he'd gotten into with Lucifer, the pranks he pulled on his younger siblings. He was easy-going for a dragon, and though Dean fell into a comfortable banter with him, he never told Gabriel anything either.  


Castiel always followed directly after or before, bringing with him food and water so that Dean wouldn’t starve.  


It always surprised Dean when Castiel brought him food; he’d had a totally different perspective of how prisoners of war were supposed to be treated, especially those caught by dragons and never seen again.  


Especially since he'd killed their father.  


But Gabriel was too friendly to be anything but a prankster, and though Castiel didn’t share his older brother’s humor, it was clear that he was no guard. Castiel brought three meals a day with him and cold, refreshing water for Dean to drink. Not only that, but he always brought two helpings of the same food; unless he was required to be somewhere else, Castiel ate his meals with Dean.  


"I am not suited to be a guard." Castiel told him one day, as he sat down and handed Dean a plate with cooked fish. Dean was staring at it incredulously, but he looked up at Castiel’s voice. "But Michael does not want you to eat alone and none of my brothers can be down here at the moment."  


"Why not?"  


"I believe your people are searching for you.” Dean’s heart dropped, and he looked up from his food to the ceiling of the cave, feeling a bit queasy. Castiel either didn't notice his discomfort, or was ignoring it, because he kept talking. “They travel too close to the entrances of our nest, though they haven't found it yet. It's very stressful for us, seeing as we mean no harm and want peace. Michael, Lucifer and Gabriel are keeping watch."  


“Lucifer?” Dean choked out. Castiel sent him a glance.  


“Michael can control my brother.” He said. Dean figured it was supposed to sound reassuring, but Castiel fell just the tiniest bit short. Still, Dean found that he appreciated the effort and placed his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. The dragon looked surprised; it was the very first time Dean had touched him on his own. The dragon was warm to the touch, much warmer than Dean had anticipated.  


"What about your sister?" Castiel gave him a wry smile.  


"Anael is not overly fond of you." He admitted. "She puts her energy elsewhere. That leaves me to make sure you stay fed."  


“Well, thanks for that, Cas.” Castiel looked quizzically at Dean, who glanced at his food determinedly with a slight flush. It had slipped out, but Dean couldn't help the familiarity. Castiel was the only dragon other than Gabriel to treat him with any sense of normalcy, which was odd for Dean.  


It didn't feel like it had been a long time, but Dean knew that his internal clock was out because of the darkness in the cave. Still, he was more than grateful to have Castiel around, gravitating towards the youngest dragon even when the others were in the room. His eyes were illuminative even in the constant state of near-darkness, watching Dean protectively around his brothers, especially Lucifer. Dean found himself sitting closer and closer to the dragon, especially in the company of the others. They spoke often; though at first it had been quiet jabs and remarks that were almost but not quite cutting, their conversations had turned deep and personal quickly. Castiel and Dean shared memories of their father and brother, Castiel with a reminiscent gleam in his eye that made Dean feel guilty and Dean with a wistfulness that left Castiel aching. Dean shared anecdotes about the trouble he got into with his fellow Knights, and Castiel spoke quietly of the parts of his brothers Dean never saw. And as they grew closer, Dean noticed the other dragons follow their brother’s example.  


Anael seemed to have softened to him; at the very least, she didn't bare her teeth at him anymore. Michael had given up on him, and was no longer pestering Dean with questions concerning the kingdom he came from. But Lucifer glowered at him all the time, a darkness in his Crimson eyes that made Dean immensely uncomfortable. He took to Cas’s side much quicker when Lucifer was in the room.  


After some more time that Dean couldn't track, Michael was more open, even though he wasn't talking to Dean as much anymore. Anael teased Castiel about him mercilessly, in the deep clicks and groans and roars that made up their language. Gabriel was the same as always, and Castiel was allowing his touches to linger; they slowed in his hair, and stroked his cheek, brushing against his own fingers and leaving a heat behind in their wake. Dean found his breath hitching when he laid eyes on Cas, his heart racing and face flushing. He missed the sunlight, and there was no person on earth he missed more than Sam, but Dean had decided to accept the turn his life had taken.  


And as soon as he'd begin accepting his life with the dragons, everything changed.  


XxX  


It ended, like it began, with a roar.  


It echoed throughout the cavern the dragons lived in. Dean was sitting alone in his area. Castiel had just left, taking with him the remains of the food they'd eaten. Dean wasn't confined to his area, though his hands were still bound together by a length of rope that allowed him a certain amount of freedom, but he was still just a little uneasy walking around the cave home unattended by at least Castiel or Gabriel. Lucifer was still a very real threat, even as his siblings accepted Dean into their lives.  


Castiel reappeared as suddenly as he always did, making Dean jump and curse loudly. His eyes were wide and panicked, familiar red-rimmed blue turning more and more red in his haste. He darted forward, grabbing a hold of Dean’s arm and yanking him down after him. Dean tried to speak, only to be hushed by the dragon. The cavern was larger than Dean had thought; he began to get suspicious that the home went underground, but another roar brought his mind back on track.  


“Cas, what's going on?” Dean whispered urgently. Castiel was tearing at the ropes that bound him together, yanking Dean along the tunnel as he did so. The change in air pressure was drastic, and Castiel wasn't giving Dean the time to adjust as they moved through the tunnels. He could hear the roar of dragons behind them, and Castiel was breathing heavily.  


“It's Lucifer.” He said quietly back. The dragon was amazing at multitasking; he was simultaneously leading them through the caves, untying Dean’s hands, and keeping tabs on the fighting behind them with the tilt of his head. “He's decided that he's done taking orders from Michael and has challenged him to be leader of our brood.”  


“Good for him.” Dean panted, trying to keep up. Castiel rounded on him so sharply and suddenly that Dean bumped into him. Warmth bloomed on his face, but the dragon had no interest in the color. He took hold of Dean’s shoulders and shook him just a bit.  


“Dean, just what do you think will happen to you if Lucifer wins?” Castiel hissed. Confusion filled Dean’s head before a sudden, stone cold understanding weighed in. Dread filled his stomach, and suddenly Dean was just as interested in getting out as Cas was. They resumed their movements, much faster now that Dean was on the same page.  


“What happened?” He asked.  


“I don't know.” Castiel responded. “Something was the breaking point, but I don't know what. He challenged Michael. Anael and Gabriel stayed behind to support Michael and make sure they don't kill each other. But I'm your protector, Dean. I'm responsible for you. If there's even the slightest chance that Lucifer could beat Michael…” Castiel trailed off and rounded a corner. They were in a cavern similar to the one that Dean had killed Castiel’s father. It branched off in three directions: the one they'd come from, a tunnel to their left, and one to their right.  


“Where are we going?” Dean asked as Castiel pulled him right.  


“Your strange clothes…your armor.” Castiel told him. “We left them here. I can't send you into the world unprotected, Dean. We’ll get your armor and then I'll lead you out.”  


Twin roars echoed from behind them again, echoed by two more fainter ones. Lucifer and Michael facing off still, Cas murmured as explanation, with Anael and Gabriel supporting. Dean found that he couldn't bring himself to really appreciate the commentary whilst his life hung in the balance.  


Still, nothing was more jarring than the silence that followed, so suddenly that it made Dean and Castiel freeze. They looked at each other, horror-struck and terrified, and then Castiel was pushing Dean into a hidden crevice.  


“Stay here, hide!” Castiel bent Dean into the small space, just big enough for the human to fit comfortably. Castiel was careful to ensure Dean didn't get hurt; after a small moment of hesitation, Castiel covered the space with a blanket that Dean used to keep warm. It smelt of a mixture of both Dean and Castiel, since the youngest dragon was the only one who tried to keep Dean warm at night.  


Castiel was about to tell Dean to keep quiet when there was the sound of rumbling. Dean watched through the thin patches in the blanket as Castiel slid to a stop in the center of the cavern, crouched low in defense instead of offense…  


Lucifer came into view suddenly, his chest heaving and eyes dragon red. His mouth was still twitching into sporadic snarls, and he was splattered in shimmery dragon blood. Cuts littered his body, superficial ones that didn't seem to have done much damage to him. Michael was too soft on his brother, Dean thought viciously, ignoring the feeling that sprouted in his stomach that told him that the human wouldn't even be able to do the same to Sam.  


Lucifer’s eyes darted around the room, but Castiel gave him no indication as to where Dean would be hiding. Scowling a bit, he let loose a commanding growl that echoed in the cavern. When Castiel didn’t so much as bat an eye, Lucifer took a single step forward to assert his dominance. Castiel still didn’t move, and it made his older brother cock an eyebrow. “You are awfully bent on protecting him, aren’t you?”  


“You have been awfully bent on causing him unjust harm.” Castiel replied back in a biting tone, narrowing his eyes just slightly at his older brother.  


“Unjust?” Lucifer repeated incredulously. “You call the harm of the one who murdered our father unjust, Castiel?”  


“Perhaps it would be justified.” Castiel acquiesced with a slight nod. “But Father was insistent that we stay out of war, Lucifer. Michael is following his ways, and we are not to cause harm to Dean just because you are hell-bent on getting revenge.”  


“You will not keep him from me, Castiel, you will tell me where he is so that I may tear him limb from limb!” Lucifer snarled. He paced like a caged animal, agitatedly shaking his head and his hands clenching and unclenching. “I will take vengeance for our Father, and I will gladly dine on his heart alone since nobody but me sees reason.”  


“You can’t.” Castiel breathed harshly; despite his human form, smoke was beginning to fall from his nostrils and mouth. His clawed fingers were clenched into tight fists, drawing blood from his palms that dripped in a slow pace to gather on the floor. Lucifer threw his head back and cackled.  


“You think I can’t because…?” Tilting his head to the side mockingly, Lucifer adopted a contrite expression and added, “Because Michael says so?”  


“Michael is our leader and his word is law.” Castiel ground out. Smoke was filling the floor of the cavern; though he couldn't draw much fire, Castiel could produce plenty of smoke on his own. “You know that, Father- - -”  


“He’s dead, you ignorant twit!” Lucifer roared. The cavern walls shook from the force, dust and small pebbles falling to the ground in response. "Dead, because of that pathetic sack of waste that you seem so intent on hiding and protecting!”  


“We are not to harm one who means us no harm.” Castiel yelled back. There was a distant cry, one that sounded like Anael as she called for the boys to wait. She was ignored, Castiel giving in and circling around Lucifer that the same time he did.  


“Following his lessons now isn’t going to bring him back!” Lucifer snarled.  


“Neither will revenge, Lucifer, and you know that.” Castiel bit back.  


“MOVE!!!!” Lucifer roared again, quite suddenly, fury forcing his teeth to elongate alarmingly. His face was distorted, his dragon fangs much too big for his human face and accenting his furious glare as he came to an abrupt stop. Castiel stared calmly back, as if such an image was familiar and no cause for concern; he stopped as well.  


“I will not let you harm Dean, Lucifer.” Castiel intoned sharply. “I suggest you leave, now. I will protect Dean if he is attacked.” Lucifer’s snarl faded in increments until his teeth were pulled back and he looked human once again. Their gazes clashed and held, a silent battle fought without injury and bloodshed. Gabriel’s voice joined Anael’s as they hunted for their brothers.  


“Little brother…” Lucifer sighed after a long moment and brought his hands together as if praying, bringing the joined hands to his forehead. His face was twisted in pain, eye contact broken in favor of a pleading expression. “Please. Don’t make me do this.”  


“You have always been so dramatic, much more than Gabriel.” The younger dragon muttered. “I am not making you do anything.” Castiel added, much louder to ensure the elder dragon heard. “You have made the decision on your own, and you are going to pay the consequences on your own.”  


Lucifer roared in fury, transforming quickly and throwing himself towards his baby brother. Castiel changed as well, though he crouched defensively and waited for Lucifer to get to him.  


Dean stifled his cry of alarm as Lucifer slammed into Castiel, sending the smaller dragon skidding across the ground with the weight of his brother on top. Lucifer’s neck was long and bent, closing sharp teeth right by Castiel’s jaw. A pained cry came from Castiel, though the younger dragon used the momentum to flip their positions around by ducking under his brother. It reddened the skin right under his wings, but he managed to free himself from Lucifer’s grasp. With a warning roar, Castiel backed into the wall, raising his wings threateningly.  


Lucifer caught himself, but Dean could tell that he was tired. He had been fighting Michael just before this, and now he was going after Castiel. Still, he threw himself forward; snarling, Castiel did the same. They met in the middle, Lucifer’s claws slicing through his brother’s side. Castiel let out a roar, agony lacing the sound. Lucifer’s claws dug deep, tearing through his little brother’s thinner skin easily. Castiel’s blood, golden and shimmery and bright, started falling instantaneously. He didn't land right, slumping to the ground and transforming nearly the second he did so. Feebly, he tried to get up again; his wound was worse in human form, and Castiel found himself meeting the floor again.  


A much larger dragon’s roar sounded, and Dean watched with wide frightened eyes as Lucifer tore out of the cavern and left. Michael, judging by the size of the dragon, followed right after him.  


Dean forced himself to wait, to ensure Lucifer was gone, before bolting from his hiding spot to the dragon. Blood soaked the knees of his pants and seeped into his skin, trying to turn him golden in the dark cave. He ignored it, picking up Castiel carefully with shaking hands.  


“What am I supposed to do?” He said quietly, his voice shaking. Castiel groaned, trying to pull away from him, but Dean didn't let him. He held the dragon tighter, closer, mind scrambling to the things he could remember about healing…but that was for humans, and Castiel was so different, he was a dragon. Did the same thing even apply?  


“Dean…”  


“Cas, what do I do?” Dean asked frantically, trying to stop the bleeding. His hands pressed against his side, but all it did was make more blood pulse out of the wound. Tears pricked his eyes, and he brushed them angrily on his shoulder. He didn't know what to do, but maybe... “ANNA, GABRIEL, HELP!!!”  


“Dean…” His attention was instantly brought down to the dragon, eyes wild and panicked. The dragon didn't look like he was too worried; his eyes raked up and down Dean, and when he realized the human was unharmed, a weight seemed to fall from his shoulders. “Leave.” Castiel coughed out, blood spraying down the side of his mouth.  


“…What?”  


“You want to help…” Castiel closed his eyes. His body was trembling, going into shock from the loss of blood and the coldness of the cave. Dean held him tighter, ignoring the blood soaking his chest. “Then leave. Go back to your human kingdom and don’t ever come back.”  


“Why?” Dean whispered brokenly, feeling useless and small. Castiel’s hand was on his shoulder, burning hot and tight. He wasn't sure what the dragon was doing, or even if he was aware of doing it, but he didn't bring it up; with Castiel bleeding out on him, it was easy to push it aside. “I can help you, Cas, I can, I swear, please, just- - -”  


“You need to leave, Dean.” Castiel gasped. His claws grew and grew, until they resembled the dragon’s hands that Castiel possessed; they ripped through Dean’s shirt, tearing through his skin in long, deep trails from his shoulder down to his elbow. Blood burst from underneath his skin, trailing down his arm in rivulets, but he ignored it in favor of holding Castiel tighter to him. “Go…back the way we came…and at the fork, turn right…and keep running.”  


“What about you, Cas?” Dean pressed down again, his blood mixing with the dragon’s. It was a strange thing, he thought in the back of his mind, to mix red with gold. His Crimson blood overpowered Castiel’s golden, but the shimmery quality of dragon’s blood made Dean’s glimmer in the dark like a ruby. “What’s going to happen to you?”  


“Run, Dean.” Castiel whispered.  


“Cas, I can’t…”  


“LEAVE!” Castiel roared suddenly, infusing his voice with a bit of dragon power; it made his voice deeper, harsher, made the reverberations shake the cavern walls and bring small rocks down on them the way Lucifer’s had.  


Dean dropped him in shock, stumbling away from Castiel in fear. He'd never used that tone of voice on the human, ever, and suddenly Dean was reminded that this was a powerful being; certainly strong enough to do some serious damage to him, maybe even kill him. Lucifer had severely injured Castiel; what could Lucifer, what could Castiel, do to him as a human?  


Terrified and ashamed, Dean turned and ran.  


XxX  


Dean walked aimlessly through the forest, searching helplessly for something; he just wasn’t sure what. He felt lost and confused, unsure of what he was doing or where he was going.  


The cave was far behind him, he thought, but Dean wasn’t sure. He stumbled and was turned around more often than he would have liked, but he was barely paying attention to his surroundings. Trees shrouded him from the sun, but it had been ages since he last ate or drank anything, and he was still woozy from blood loss; the scratches on his arm, Castiel’s mark that was scarred into him forever now, kept opening and without proper first aid, they were bleeding freely. The blood was strange-looking, too dark at times and mixed with yellow pus at others.  


His arm was getting infected.  


Dean didn't know how to care for it; he hadn't paid too much attention to the healing portion of their training, too focused on the glory of battle to think he would ever survive it. He wasn't sure what to do, other than rinse it out with water and tie it closed with bandages. It was days of doing this, with no water to drink or any real food to eat. Time muddled together, his head light and dazed as he wandered for nothing.  


“Dean!” He heard his name and he turned far too quickly, or maybe it was because of the sudden weight that had been added; either way, he went down, his breath leaving his lungs in a startled noise. He lay on the floor, head spinning and eyes staring blankly at the crystal blue sky above him. The weight abated some and a boy came into view; it looked oddly like his brother. His younger brother, the only one he had. He'd spoken to Castiel about him, Dean remembered, though it felt like a lifetime ago. Sam.  


Sam!  


Dean sat up so quickly his head spun, but he ignored it by throwing his arms around his younger brother’s shoulders, stretching awkwardly to hug his baby brother. Sam made a squawk of noise, especially when the cuts on Dean’s arm broke open again and began dripping blood and pus.  


His giant of a brother picked Dean up easily, shouting something behind him and walking the way they came easily. Other voices joined his brother’s, but Dean couldn't bring himself to focus on any of them. He stared upwards, dazed, as the sky moved while they headed back to the kingdom.  


He didn't remember much of the journey back. Just jumbled up bits and pieces that didn't make sense; the sky passing by, interwoven with trees for a time before opening up to clear blue that was far too light. The darkness of a room, of a cave room, and the voices of dragons echoing in his delirious mind. Dean woke suddenly, feeling more lucid than he had been before, sitting up in bed and startling the hell out of Sam and Bobby. 

It was several days after Dean had began walking around again that someone was spotted in the woods where he was found.  


A group of knights had been put together to investigate, but there was a sinking feeling in Dean’s stomach. He wasn't strong enough to go out and about; he could barely walk on his own. But his arm was throbbing in a way that didn't have anything to do with the injuries inflicted on it, and there was something in his mind urging him to find a way to go. Bobby came in just as he was trying to climb out of bed.  


“And just where do you think you're going?” The man asked. Dean winced, closing his eyes.  


“I have to be there, Bobby.” He said quietly. He snorted, but Dean shook his head and held firm. Looking up, he said, “look, I'm not asking. I'm just saying, I need to go. I'm the one that needs to be there, out of everyone chosen, it has to be me.”  


“You can't even walk!” Bobby told him incredulously, when it became obvious that Dean wasn't backing down. Dean shrugged, but Bobby wasn't letting him push it aside. Crossing his arms and leaning against the door, Bobby glowered at Dean. “Why is this so important to you? Does it have anything to do with the dragons that captured you?”  


Dean got quiet, his shoulders hunching in on himself. Bobby made a noise in the back of his throat, triumphant and a little sad. There was silence between the two men for a long while, one that Bobby used to sit himself in a chair, before Dean broke it.  


“Let me go, Bobby, please.” Dean hated begging, but he knew he was resorting to it; he needed to see the man stumbling about, needed to know if it was Castiel, and something about him- - -his voice, his words, the expression on his face- - -seemed to sway Bobby against his better judgement.  


“All right, boy.” Bobby grumbled affectionately. He turned himself away, pulling his hat low over his eyes and leaning back in his chair. Dean took it as the opportunity it was; he slipped out of bed and headed towards the door. Once he was clear of the nurses that seemed to linger in the halls, Dean bolted.  


He caught up with Sam and the others really easily; Sam put up the protests Dean knew he would, but he ignored him with his usual determination. If it was Cas that had been sighted, the dragon was going to need someone to keep him alive. After everything that had happened, Castiel was the one who needed help. It was Dean’s turn to protect Cas, and he was damn well up to the challenge.  


XxX  


It was a surprisingly short ride to find him, and they pulled to a stop about a hundred yards away from him.  


The man was stumbling, eyes wide and crazed as he took in the men surrounding him. He was a dragon, there was no doubt to any of the Knights surrounding him. There was no shame on his face even though he was walking around completely naked and injured, though he wasn't covered in blood and he looked partially healed; cuts mottled up his side and he was favoring his right leg a little bit more than his left. He had no wings, but he had dragon claws out and was allowing his dragon teeth to be bared warningly. It twisted the normally human features, his fingers gnarled and his face distorted horrifyingly. He was lashing out, hissing and snarling at the humans around him, spinning slowly on his heel as he tried to keep them all in sight.  


Dean’s breath caught; it was Cas.  


“Stand down.” He ordered Sam, pushing past his gargantuan brother to approach. He heard the shouts of protest, Sammy’s startled cry of ‘what are you doing stay back DEAN’ but he ignored them all in favor of slowly approaching Castiel. The youngest dragon had stopped spinning, wild eyes locked on Dean’s. He was still injured badly despite Dean’s initial thought, limping and favoring his left side by covering it with one hand. Blood bubbled and dripped from the claw marks on his chest, and Dean wondered briefly if Castiel even had time to heal properly before going on his current suicide mission.  


“Stay back.” Castiel rumbled; the sound was distorted by his current state and the teeth in his mouth.  


“Cas- - -” Dean ducked a half-assed swipe of Castiel’s claw, waving back at Sam when his younger brother let out a startled cry. Casiel growled as he overbalanced and tried to ready himself to attack again, but he put too much weight on his right leg and he buckled to the ground. His surprise and pain caused his nails and teeth to retract, making him instantly more human. Dean dove after him, catching the dragon before he hit the ground. Castiel fought him weakly for a moment before something seemed to click in his mind.  


“…Dean?” Castiel muttered hoarsely.  


“Yea, Cas, it’s me.” Dean frowned and leaned over him a bit, shielding the dragon from the view of the others. “What are you doing here? Where’s the rest of your brood?”  


“They’ve taken flight.” Castiel murmured back. His weight was fully on Dean’s leg, his words coming faster than the human thought possible. “Michael has taken Anael and Gabriel and fled our old cavern. Lucifer’s gone as well, but nobody knows where, he just vanished in the night- - -”  


“Cas, Cas, wait- - -” But Castiel’s voice tapered off and the dragon passed out. Dean exhaled harshly through his nose, looking up at his brother. Everyone was staring at them in a quiet awe, but Dean motioned to Castiel. “Help me, Sammy, we gotta take him back.”  


“Is this Castiel?” Sam asked carefully, sheathing his sword and inching forward slowly.  


“Yea, it's him.” Dean said. He passed Castiel up to Sam, who took the dragon’s weight as easily as he'd taken Dean’s before. The Knights around them looked confused, but they were following Sam loyally; seeing as he was listening to his big brother, something Dean never thought he'd be grateful for, they were willing to take Castiel back to the kingdom in order for him to heal and talk.  


“What's going on?” Sam asked quietly.  


“I don't know.” Dean responded tiredly. With a little bit of help from Sam, he put Castiel on his horse and got on behind him. Golden blood began coating his legs, and Dean pushed down the roiling in his stomach at the feel of it. “But we should get home and find out.”  


Sam nodded, and just like that, they were heading back. Dean kept glancing down, eyes taking in the injuries on the dragon. They looked familiar, if inflamed, and Dean knew they were probably as infected as his own were. He put a gentle hand on his wound, closing his eyes when Castiel moaned in pain at the touch.  


Spurred on by the sound, Dean hastened to get back to the town as quickly as possible. There was going to be something of a fight ahead of them, and he wanted it over as quickly as possible. The sooner he got that settled, the sooner Castiel would be healed.  


XxX  


With Castiel’s apparent natural healing abilities that came from being a dragon, and the quick work of their healer, the dragon was conscious in a day and a half. Dean had been sitting by his side for the entire duration; he'd been waiting for Cas to wake up, and being checked over to make sure his own injuries didn't get any worse.  


He watched as Castiel forced himself up, then hunched over in pain as his hands flew to his sides. The dragon let out a snarl that almost echoed through the room, but Dean simply raised an eyebrow as he turned fully to face the panting dragon. He watched as his eyes darted around the room in confusion, taking in the white walls and the sunlight streaming into the room.  


“Having a good time there, Cas?” Cas twisted around, and the defensive look in his eyes faded the second they landed on Dean. He clambered out of his bed, wincing the entire time, and crawled into Dean’s side; curling up around him, he started a low growl in his throat that Dean recognized as contentment.  


“I was afraid you hadn't made it to your village.” Castiel rumbled. His red-rimmed blue eyes, as familiar as they were otherworldly, were hooded in contentment and stared out of the window into the distance. Still, Dean didn't have any reason to believe he was anything other than sincere as he spoke. “I'm…pleased to find you safe, Dean.”  


“What’s going on, Cas?” Dean asked quietly, placing a hand on the wild hair. Castiel was trembling, just a little bit, and it made Dean wonder as to what was going on. “Why are you here?”  


“My brood has taken flight.” Castiel said quietly. “Just after you had left. Gabriel found me and started tending to me, but Lucifer had vanished. Michael hadn't wanted to stay in our nest, just in case he decided to start his vendetta against humans.”  


“So they left you?” Dean asked incredulously.  


“No.” Castiel said sharply. His grip on Dean tightened, and though he winced just a little, Dean didn't tell him to loosen his grip. “There was a fight, me and Gabriel against Anael and Michael. In the end, Anael went with Michael and left, and they forced Gabriel to go with them. I left the nest, to warn you that Lucifer was missing, and they flew off without me.” Castiel was quiet for a moment before adding softly, “I was left behind.”  


“I'm sorry, Cas.” Dean told him. He wasn't surprised to find that he meant it, and he curled around Castiel a little tighter. The dragon took a shuddering breath, and Dean sighed.  


“I'm…scared, Dean.” He admitted quietly. “What am I going to do? Where am I going to go? I'm a dragon, Dean, and I have no brood anymore. No protection.”  


“No, Cas.” Dean said fiercely. His heart was twisting in his chest, and he couldn't help the anger that surged at Michael, at Anael. They'd left behind their youngest, unintentionally or not, and now that the tables had turned, Dean found he couldn't let Castiel go as easily as Cas had. “You can stay here, Cas. You can stay with us.”  


XxX  


“You should sleep now.” The man told his child; she never passed this part, too young to stay awake for the entirety of the story. The girl was curled up around him, half under the blankets and with the pillows pressing in on her from all sides. She was yawning so widely her teeth were being revealed, two on either side of her mouth missing already. The girl jumped up, fighting the sleep away as she struck a victorious pose.  


“I don't want to sleep!” She declared grandly. “I want to fight! With Knights, against fearsome dragons like Lucifer!” The girl swung her arm out as if she was already wielding her own sword. “I've heard his eyes are red as flames! And heard that it's told from Hell he came!”  


“Hush, child!” The man pulled his child down again, nestling her into the pillows and blankets. The little one hunkered down, snuggling in on her own and curling up into a ball. Her heterochromatic eyes looked up balefully from her position; the man sighed and put his hand in the wild hair. “Love, do not wish to grow up so soon.”  


“But, Papa- - -”  


“No.” The man sighed and pressed a kiss to the child’s forehead. “Know your enemy, my daughter.”  


“Yes, Papa.” The girl whispered. She watched her father leave the room and hesitate by the door. Pulling the blanket down just a bit, she whispered, “Good night, Papa.”  


“Good night, my little Charlie.” He closed the door quietly, his chest feeling heavy. She was too little, he mused as he walked to the living room of their shared house, too little to know about the pain caused from love and war alike. He made his way to the corner of the room, sitting by the window and looking out over the mountain view. His chest ached, like it always did whenever he told Charlie that story. She was growing up too slowly to be fully human, but time was passing for her as it did for them all, and she was growing up whether he liked it or not.  


For a moment, just a brief one, he imagined warm, calloused hands on his shoulder. Feeling far older than he was, he closed his eyes and placed his fingers on top of the phantom hand.


End file.
